


Trust

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Reaper76 [13]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Injury, Cat/Human Hybrids, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reconciliation, Rescue, Scars, Torture, Trauma, Trust, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 04:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Jack is broken. Blind and injured, unable to trust those around him after being rescued from Talon, he tries to push everyone away. However, Gabriel, adrift and trying to embrace the past and adapt to Overwatch once more, refuses to be pushed away determined that Jack will feel safe again. Kitty!76.





	1. Chapter 1

    _Jack grumbled under his breath but didn’t really protest when Gabe gently disentangled his claws from where he’d grabbed hold of him earlier, feeling gentle fingers rubbing against his claws as they were carefully pulled free of the material. Any complaint he might have had disappeared when he was promptly pulled across into Gabe’s lap, a low purr erupting in his chest when those same fingers moved to play with his ears. He knew that it was risky as they weren’t in the privacy of their own quarters, which meant that anyone could disturb them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, arching back against his partner as one hand moved down his back, applying firm but gentle pressure down the line of his spine. The touch was perfect, warming him and making him want more as he pressed back into Gabriel’s hand._

_The demanding meow that slipped out despite his efforts to hold it back, earned him a soft chuckle and he narrowed his eyes at the noise, ready to use his claws again if needed, when he felt it. The heavenly touch of Gabe’s fingers at the base of his tail, rubbing and massaging him for a moment, driving him made with the sensation before Gabe moved on to stroke his tail, always careful not to catch the silky fur or stroke it in the wrong direction. Gabe was pressed against him now, leaning close to murmur praise in his ears, words that made Jack purr and blush in equal measure as he butted his head affectionately against Gabe’s cheek, unable to get his voice to work._

     Jack started awake with a gasp, his breath rapid and uneven as panic flooded him and he hunched up, trying to form a defensive ball, even though the movement had his body screaming in protest. Touch. There were phantom fingers touching his ragged ears, tugging at the tattered fur on his tail and he shuddered at the sensations, a low, desperate mewl escaping as hunkered down. He remained like that for a while, and it took him far longer than it should’ve to realise that it was just an echo of the dream that he was felling, that there was no one there, that there was no one touching his ears…his tail. He swallowed thickly, the sound of his own ragged breathing the only noise in the cell as he curled his tail protectively against his stomach.

_It was just a dream._

     That thought wasn’t as reassuring as he’d hoped it would be, the tension refusing to drain away even though he knew it had just been a dream. That was partly because he also knew that it hadn’t only been a dream, it had been more than that. It had been a memory. A memory of happier times. A memory from another life. There had been a time when he’d clung to memories just like that one, desperate not to forget them or the life he’d had. Desperate not to lose the time he had spent with Gabriel. Those memories had been the only thing he’d had left, and they’d also been a talisman against the lonely nights he’d spent in whatever dive had offered him refuge for the night. Even when he’d first been captured the memories had been something to cling to, a way for him to remember kinder times and touches, to remind him that there had been a time when his feline features hadn’t been a source of torment, when they hadn’t been reduced to a weapon that could be used against him.

   Now… Now, the memory and the mere thought of someone touching his ears or tail left him feeling sick to the pit of his stomach, his tail whipping against him in agitation as he curled further in on himself. He almost wanted to cry as he realised that his captors had managed to take something else from him, a part of him that he hadn’t realised he’d lost until just now.

   However, the tears wouldn’t come. He was out of tears, having used them all up in the aftermath of Zurich and Gabriel’s death. His tormentor could wrest cries of pains from him, they could make him scream and whimper and hate his own memories. but they couldn’t make him cry, he wouldn’t… couldn’t …let them break him like that.

     Instead he lay there, slowly uncurling himself from his protective ball, groaning as he stretched out sore limbs, until he was able to roll onto his back, sightless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. _I won’t break. I won’t break._ It was a mantra that he had started repeating after the first few days of his captivity and whilst he had long since lost track of how long he’d been trapped in this nightmare, the words were still there. They were weaker, less convincing that they had been, but they were still there, and focusing on them allowed him to calm his breathing and push the memory to the back of his mind as best as he could.

_I won’t break._

     There was only so long that he could lie like that, the cold of the body making it impossible for him to remain in one place for long, the tattered remains of his clothes offering him little in the way of protection from the chill. Usually he hated it, but tonight he was feeling restless and he was reluctant to risk falling asleep again and being assaulted by more memories, and slowly he pushed himself to his feet. He was unsteady, his joints protesting the movement after another night spent curled on the cold floor and he found himself having to grab the wall to stop himself from crumpling back onto the floor, cursing under his breath.

    It had been bad enough before, age and the wear and tear of a lifetime spent fighting had slowly been wearing him down, his body no longer as strong as it had been. But the time that he spent trapped in this cell, and his captors’ treatment of him had exacerbated it, and he could no longer remember the last time that he’d had even one waking moment without pain. It was another technique to make him break, and it was proving more effective than he cared to admit. He might still be under the effects of the Soldier Enhancement Program, but those enhancements had never been intended to last forever and they were beginning to fail, allowing everything to catch up with him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself away from the door, muttering a prayer as he did so that the he wouldn’t just end up on the floor, but his legs held this time and slowly he was able to draw himself up to his full height, although he didn’t like how difficult such a simple act was.

“Gabe, you’d laugh at me if you could see me now,” he whispered aloud with a sigh. His voice was hoarse and cracked, sounding foreign even to his own ears, and far too loud in the silence of his cell. But the words helped to bolster his spirits for a second, as Gabriel had always joked that Jack was an old man in a young man’s body, and that he would be the first to become the stiff, cantankerous old man, despite the fact that he was the younger of the two. It was only a fleeting moment of amusement, his expression growing grim once more as the reality of the situation pressed in on him. It did him no good to think about the past. Gabriel was gone, and the memories of the two of them were tainted by everything that had happened in the lead up to Zurich and what was happing to him now, and it was pointless, because Gabriel was already dead, and Jack seemed destined to join him sooner rather than later.

_Soon._

    Cautiously, not sure that he could trust his legs to support him and still feeling the damage from his last ‘session’ with his captors, he began to pace around the cell. When he had been first captured, he had spent that time planning how he was going to escape, how he was going to fight back, but now his mind was blank of anything but the mantra and a growing desire for everything to just be over.

    He hurt. As he moved, gait uneven, more a shuffling limp than a walk, he could feel his clothes shifting, brushing against fresh wounds and older ones that were still healing. If he had been able to see himself, he knew that he would be covered in a tapestry of scars and bruises, and it almost made him glad that he couldn’t see himself. _Almost._ He flinched as he reached up to his face, shuddering as he passed over the scars that Zurich had left, before tentatively moving up to ghost his fingers over his eyes, or rather what remained of them. He hissed even at the faintest contact, the wounds still healing. It hadn’t even been the worst thing that had been done to him here, but even now he would wake up gasping from nightmares, remembering with vivid clarity the burning pain, the agony of losing them. The screams he’d made as he’d tried to wrench himself away from the pain still echoed in his mind, louder in the moments when he remembered the sheer terror of waking to a world of darkness and being hit with the realisation that it was permanent.

    It wasn’t the worst loss though, because his eyesight had already been failing him, his eyes had been damaged the day that Zurich had fallen and never healed properly, and age had only added to the problem. By the time he had been caught he had already been largely dependent on his visor, but at least he’d still been able to see blurry shapes and colours without it. Now, there was nothing and his visor had long since been taken, no doubt destroyed or sold to anyone who wanted to get their hands on that kind of technology. Still as much as he hated and feared the darkness and how vulnerable it left him, he could endure it.

    No, the worst had been when they had turned their attention to his highly sensitive, feline features. His ears twitched at the memory, or rather what remained of them. He didn’t reach up this time because he didn’t want to feel the damage again. He didn’t need to. He knew that if he did he would feel the large nick in his right ear and the furless scarring on the back, and his other ear…he swallowed, unable to stop himself from making an anguished whimper as the memory of Gabe playing with his once pristine ears replayed through his mind, making the loss worse. Agitated, his tail lashed against his thigh and he flinched, the contact sending agony lancing along the length of it and he hissed, angry and hurt as he reached for it with cautious fingers, feeling the missing tip and the ragged, tatty fur.

More things that had been taken from him.

    Slowly he forced himself to release his tail, turning to resume his pacing when he froze, quivering as his fur stood on end. After being trapped in the darkness for so long, his other senses had increased to compensate, and his hearing which had always been sharper than most people had grown the most, the smallest of noises enough to catch his attention these days. He could hear them coming now, making out the familiar sound of booted feet on concrete as they headed towards his cell, even though they were several rows away, and fear blossomed as he backed away from the sound. _They were coming._ Hissing he back up, knowing from painful experience that there was no way he could fight his way past them, especially with how he was now, and instead he moved back until he could press himself against the far wall of his cell, tucking his tail against himself.

     The wait was agonizing, seeming far longer than it was, his fear intensifying by the second as he listened to the metal bolts on his door being released, and the alarm system whirring as it was deactivated. He had a brief second of satisfaction as he realised that he must still be considered a threat if they hadn’t removed those defences, but it vanished the second the heard the door open and he tensed, shrinking back. They were silent as they entered, they always had been. He could vaguely remember them asking questions right at the start, fairly sure that he hadn’t said anything useful despite their methods, not that he had known anything useful anyway. It had been another reason why he had refused to answer the Recall, he hadn’t trusted himself. However, those questions had petered out ages ago, and now their ‘sessions’ with him were little more than exercise in torture, in pain, and Jack couldn’t help but wonder just how long they were going to keep it up. He was well aware that he held no value to them, and that eventually they would realise that as well and end this.  He just wished that the thought of that happening wasn’t so damn alluring.

     Hearing them moving closer he forced himself back to the present, focusing, listening to their movements and breathing as he braced himself for the first strike, praying that his expression wasn’t betraying his thoughts or his fear.

“Do your worst,” he snarled, hissing, ears of what remained of them pressed flat against his head. He was backed into a corner literally and figuratively. He knew it. They knew it. But still he felt his fur rising and he bared his teeth, trying to make himself as intimidating as possible. “You won’t break me.” Words. They were just empty words right now, words that tasted like in ash as he spat them out. He had tried everything to get out of his hell and payed the prise for his defiance over and over, and he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t any fight left in him at this point. He was old. He was hurt. And there was no one to fight for anymore, nothing to keep going for and yet still he tried.

    The first blow caught him on the cheek and he grunted, staggering under the force of the impact and he felt the bone shift, biting down on his lip to stop himself from crying out. He wasn’t given a chance to steady himself, as there were more hands reaching for him, more blows raining down on him, and it wasn’t long before everything had faded to a blur of pain, and his mantra was growing weaker and weaker as he found himself hitting the ground hard.

  _I won’t break. I won’t…. break…_

     He didn’t believe himself anymore and then there were hands on his tail, snagging on the ragged fur and he tensed, knowing what was to come and trying to brace himself for the pain that he knew was going to follow as it was yanked out flat behind him. There was no preparing for it though, and he yowled as someone stomped down on it, feeling the bones shattering the impact and his yowl became a hoarse scream when the action was repeated over and over. His was mind was clouding over with the pain, the mantra lost, and he squeezed his eyes shut as something deep inside him quivered and then shattered.

_Please, just let this end._

****

    Gabriel was cautious as he moved down the corridor, feeling his nanites shifting restlessly just under his skin, reacting to his uneasiness and ready to dissolve at a moment’s notice. He shouldn’t be doing this, it could cost him everything. There were many things about Talon that he still didn’t know even after the long months spent working for them, mainly because he didn’t want to know about them. The very fact that he was involved with Talon on any level left a bitter taste in his mouth, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the money and resources they provided, and the fact that he was inching closer to getting his hands on the information that he needed, he would have burnt them to the ground long ago. Eventually he would. However, until it was the right time he had been determined to turn a blind eye to anything that might weaken his resolve, especially this part of the base. These dark corridors in the lowest level of the base, where the poor souls who had run afoul of Talon wound up. At least he killed his prey outright, a mercy, compared to what happened to those who ended up down here to suffer until their usefulness expired.

     Normally he would have avoided this area like the plague, but recently there had been whispers trickling through the tanks, rumours of a prisoner of special importance. A prisoner that didn’t seem to exist on any of the records that Gabriel had been able to get his hands on, and not even Sombra had been able to find anything, which made the favour he now owed her for looking even more annoying. Still, it had been enough to spark his curiosity. Especially as nearly a week ago, he’d caught strange noises drifting up from this level. Not the usual shouts and screams that he had learned to tune out over the months, but more animalistic noises, ones that had tugged at his memory and haunted his thoughts ever since, despite his attempts to distract himself.

    Which was why he was here now, sneaking down into the corridors he had always avoided and praying that no one would spot him, because he didn’t want to admit to any of his ‘colleagues’ that he was curious about what was happening down here, and who the prisoner was. Wary of breaking the Reaper persona that so far, he’d managed to keep intact, even with the hate and anger simmering under his skin, a worried about what they might demand from him if they thought he was willing to participate in this side of Talon. His nanites shifted again, picking up on his growing agitation and exacerbating it, and he could feel himself beginning to disintegrate around the edges and he had to pause, taking a deep breath as he tried to focus on the present and pull himself back together. _This is a bad idea,_ he told himself yet again, turning his head and looking back in the direction he had come from, debating whether to just turn back now. It wasn’t as though he needed to know, it was just simple curiosity and yet…

“Damn it,” he growled under his breath, shaking his head as he turned back and continued in the direction he had been heading. There had better be something worthwhile to find down here.

    He ignored the first couple of corridors that were lined with cells, knowing from his investigations that these would be little more than minor prisoners. Agents that were being punished. Prisoners that had little value whilst they were being held and were being convinced to be cooperative when they were released. Still, even with that the conditions they were being held in had him scowling, and he was glad for his mask as it stopped the prisoners seeing the emotions playing over his face, and it stopped them from trying to talk to him, many of them recoiling at the sight of him. He was slower going down the next few corridors, peering through each door, but finding nothing but empty cells and the odd unfortunate soul who would flinch back at the sight of the skull mask peering in at them.

    It was on the next level that he finally found something of interest after several more corridors of empty cells, and he came to a halt as he found a large, metal door that had been built into the wall. There was a keypad at the side, and a quick glance at it confirmed that it was alarmed, which made the heavy metal bolts on the outside more confusing. Just who was inside? Unlike the other cells there was no window that he could peer through, and he stared at the door for a moment before his gaze moved lower, and he sucked in a breath as he took in the old bloodstains that covered the door handle and the floor, making out footprints against the concrete, as though someone had walked through pooled blood, and something twisted in his stomach.

Did he really want to know what lay on the other side of the door?

    He hesitated for several minutes despite the risk, just staring at the door, and weighing his options as he realised how sturdy it was. It was built from the same kind of material that Overwatch had used to contain Omnics, and the unfortunate SEP graduate who had lost control of himself after the end of the Crisis, the weight of the burden they’d all borne too much for him to bear, and Gabriel’s scowl deepened. Who could they have caught that would need these kinds of measures?

    Shifting his attention to the keypad again, he took a step towards it before pausing. He wasn’t willing to risk that his credentials wouldn’t be accepted in case it set off an alarm or flashed up on a log, and he examined the door, gaze moving to the think crack at the base of the door. It wasn’t enough to help anyone else, but it was an opening that he could use without anyone else being aware of his presence, and a quick glance couldn’t hurt.

    Before he’d even made a conscious decision about what he was going to do, he found his body dissolving, shuddering at the loss of his body. It was a sensation that he still wasn’t used to, and he swirled for a minute, trying to adjust to the feeling of being mist, before he dove for the door, carefully seeping in through the crack, listening carefully for any sign that the alarm system had been sensitive enough to pick up his presence, but there was nothing.

    No, not nothing. Now that he was on the other side and focusing, he realised that he could make out raspy breathing somewhere in the room and he tensed, before slowly pulling himself back together, fighting the nanites as they fought to retain that form. It was a familiar fight at this point and one easily won, and it wasn’t long before he was stood in the middle of the poorly lit cell, mist still merging with his skin as he turned towards the source of the noise. He froze as his gaze landed on the still form lying against the back wall.

    Whoever it was they were facing away from him, curled up in a fetal position having clearly tried to protect themselves although it hadn’t worked, as the poor excuse for clothes they were wearing, and the surrounding floor was splatted with blood. Their blood, he assumed as he took a cautious step forward, watching for any hint of movement from the man. It was a man, he could tell that much from his current position as he took in the broad shoulders, guessing that once upon a time he’d been well built. His eyes widened behind his mask as he spotted something else, a lump rising in his throat as he spotted the badly damaged tail that lay limply behind the man, and his gaze darted towards the prisoner’s head and sure enough there were matching cat ears poking through the bloodied hair, although there was barely enough left to even call them ears.

    Something painful twisted in his chest at the sight of the feline features, memories that he normally kept locked away threatening to rise up, his hands clenching at his side as he remembered another man with those features. Remembering pleasant afternoons spent teasing soft ears and an even softer tail, and the soft chorus of purring and yowls that had greeted his ministrations.

    Scowling he backed up, turning to leave. He hadn’t come here to be reminded about the past. To be reminded about him…and yet he couldn’t make himself move. He couldn’t leave, and with a growl he turned bac towards the still form and took a step towards him. “Are you awake?” He demanded, unsurprised when there was no response, although he still waited a moment before reaching out, his nanites shifting to form tendrils that slowly, gentle reached for the prisoner, easing the man over until he was lying facing Gabriel. It took everything he had to not drop the man when got his first good look at his face, and he struggled to focus long enough to lower him the rest of the distance onto the ground, unable to tear his eyes away.

    The man’s face was badly scarred, deep marks running the length of his features that spoke of old trauma, whilst the skin was rent with cuts and bruises from his more recent treatment. However, no matter how bad the damage was, there was no way Gabriel could ever mistake the strong jawline or the shape of the nose. Age ad injury couldn’t change those things, and a low pained noise as he stumbled forward.

“Jack…?” The name slipped out. Pained. Choked with emotions that he hadn’t let himself feel in months and he inched forwards again. _How was this possible?_ It had been years since he had seen the other man, after all Jack Morrison was supposed to be dead, lost in the same explosion that had destroyed Zurich and left Gabriel in his current situation. He had searched back then, desperate to prove the news wrong, wanting it to be wrong despite the anger and resentment that had engulfed him at the time, and yet everything had pointed at Jack perishing even though no body had ever been found. No body had been found, because he wasn’t dead. Gabriel snarled, feeling a spark of anger at that realisation, but it died just as quickly as it had appeared, because Jack was here. He was right there in front of him, within his reach, and an angry growl rose, burning in the back of his throat as the reality of the situation slammed into him.

    Jack. His Jack was alive…barely, he was forced to amend as he listened to the strained breathing, his gaze sweeping the length of Jack’s body, his expression growing darker and darker as he took in the damage that had been done. They had done this to _HIS_ Jack. His gaze lingered for a while on the tattered ears and broken tail, fresh fury bubbling up in his chest at the sight of those injuries, because he knew just how sensitive those features were and how much it must have hurt to endure those wounds.

They had done this. Talon had done this.

_Jack…_

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

     Rage. Pure, incandescent rage. It had been a very long time since Gabriel had felt it this strongly, since he had let himself feel anything this strongly, his carefully held control snapping. In fact, the last time he had come remotely close to this was when he had woken in the aftermath of Zurich, dragged kicking and screaming back to life because of what had been done to him. He had snapped them, rage and grief shattering him when he’d realised what had been done to him, what had been done to Blackwatch and Overwatch and what had happened to Jack. _Jack…_ He had come apart then, his emotions and the loss of Jack too overwhelming even for his nanites to handle, and his physical form had collapsed for the first time.

     It was the same now a shriek of rage building in his chest and despite his best efforts to hold it back, wary of giving away his presence it escaped as he fell apart, his physical form giving way until he was nothing more than swirling mist. It didn’t lessen the rage, if anything it seemed to intensify it because without his physical body there was no other sensation for him to focus on. There was nothing but the rage searing its way through his chest as his attention shifted back to Jack’s still form, taking in the damage that seemed to cover every inch of the other man.

   Talon had once again dared to hurt what was his, right under his nose. A rational part of him pointed out that he couldn’t have known, that there was no way that he could have prevented this, because he hadn’t known that Jack was even alive, let alone that he was here. It didn’t matter, what mattered was that Talon had hurt Jack again under his watch, and he howled once more, the noise distorted by his current form. They had hurt Jack. They had come close, too close, to destroying the one thing that Gabriel had left in the world. He would destroy them, tear them apart and make sure that they experienced the same pain they had dared inflict on Jack, only worse. His form was swirling now, agitated and restless, bloodlust rising through the rage and the urge to escape the cell and tear his way through the entire building and every agent foolish enough to get in his path was nearly overwhelming.

It would be so simple…

   But it wasn’t that simple. Whilst his emotions which often hindered him when he was in his human form, they now fuelled him, lending his wraith-self strength and he shifted closer to the door, already hungering for the revenge to come and the souls that he would be able to reap. That bit was simple, and he had no reservation at the thought that he was going to take lives, or that not everyone he encountered would have been aware of what was happening, their possible innocence of little concern to him in this state. No, what wasn’t simple was that Jack was here and that in his current state he was completely helpless, and he paused, wavering as he glanced back at the still form. Going after Talon now would mean leaving Jack unprotected and alone, a thought that had him wavering, because he had a feeling that Jack had been alone for far too long. However, it was more than that. If he destroyed Talon now, or at least those agents that were on the base now he would be forced to go on the run, because there would be no mistaking who had done it, not once he was done. They had seen too much of his work for him to hide that from them, and he wanted them to know who had come for them, who had destroyed them.

   Had he been alone he would have risked it, he would have torn through them right there and then, and then worried about where he was going and what was going to happen to him. After all being on the run was nothing new, he had spent the days following Zurich hiding from everyone and everything, well aware that several people had been trying to find him and bring him ‘home’ refusing to believe that he had died. Aware that less friendly people, with Petras at the head, had been searching for him, with his name being bandied around to take some of the blame for Overwatch’s fall. No, he was used to be on the run, to working outside the law and on his own, and he had little to fear from Talon. He knew far more about the organisation and those in power than they realised, and he could and would use that against them…but Jack…his gaze focused on the other man once more, a snarl forming as he reminded once again of the damage his partner had suffer. Jack was different, and no matter what skills he must’ve developed to survive after Zurich…Gabriel refused to think about just how long Jack had been down here…he was going to need proper care and attention if he was going to come back from this. If he could come back from this. And he wouldn’t be able to get that if they were on the run, because Talon had tendrils everywhere and Gabriel knew that they wouldn’t hesitate to use Jack against him…

   He snarled, form flickering, solidifying around the edges as the reality of the situation began to cut through his rage. He wanted to hurt Talon, more than he had wanted anything in a very long time, but… that wasn’t what Jack needed from him right now. A chill that had nothing to do with his wraithlike state swept through him, and he could feel his body beginning to reform as the blind rage receded. Jack needed him. They had both seen people break under the kind of treatment that Jack had undergone, through less in fact, and he knew that his earlier thought had been right even if he didn’t want to admit it. Jack might not come back from this, but if he was to stand a chance then Gabriel was going to have to rein himself in for the time being, and he took a shuddering breath as he slowly, painfully, forced his rage back behind a blank mask. When it was time he would destroy them, but for now…

“Jack,” he murmured, voice soft a tone that he was surprised he was still capable of, but this was Jack. He had always been different with Jack, and he knew that Jack needed the kindness, the softness, wondering how long it had been since Jack had heard a kind voice. How long had they had him here? He was almost afraid of the answer and he pushed the question to the back of his mind, instead moving cautiously towards Jack, crouching down beside him and reaching out with a trembling hand. He faltered before he touched the other man. He could remember the panic, the fear of touch that had engulfed him after a brief spell in captivity during their SEP days, that had only been a couple of days and he had only been roughed up, but he had been wary, nervous for days. Jack…Jack had undergone far worse and he hissed under his breath, forcing his hand back, realizing that even the most well-meaning touch would be poorly received at the moment. “Jack,” his fingers itched to reach out and touch Jack, but he fought it, a task made easier as his gaze shifted to the damage that had been done to his ears, eyes darting down to the broken tail, a low growl rising in his chest. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

   There was no other choice. He might have been able to turn his back on nameless prisoners, but this was Jack…his Jack, and his fingers twitched again and this time he gave into the urge just for a second, brushing them against one bloodied cheek. “Jack…” He was torn between hoping that his touch would rouse him, and praying that he stayed unconscious, not wanting to imagine how much pain Jack would be in if he woke now. Still there was a flicker of disappointment when there was no sign of Jack stirring, and reluctantly he pulled his fingers back, not wanting to risk scaring the other man, instead settling back on his heels as he contemplated his options.

   He had plenty of boltholes prepared, he had always made sure that he had a way out. That they had a way out, not that it had done them any good, Zurich had happened too fast and been too big… and he had fallen for the lies, the deceit and thought that it was too late, when if he had just searched harder or had more faith…He shook his head, gaze fixated on Jack as he tried to push those memories aside, it was easier than it had been in a long time because Jack was there, alive…real….and he released a shuddering breath. _Jack is alive_ , and it was up to him to make sure that he stayed that way, which brought him back to his previous thoughts. His more recent safe-houses barely deserved the name and were ill equipped, he hadn’t needed to worry about it, he had his nanites to heal him and as long as he could find someone to feed on he could do without real food for a good about of time, but Jack needed more. But waiting, leaving Jack here whilst he prepared somewhere suitable for them to hide was out of the question, his stomach churning at the mere thought of leaving Jack in this room.

   He could try asking Sombra for help, but that option was fraught with risks. For the main part, she seemed to support him, and she certainly knew more about him than he liked, information which so far, she had kept to herself. But this would not only be pushing those limits, it would be breaking them outright, and could he trust her with the knowledge that Jack Morrison, former Strike Commander of Overwatch was alive. And not only was he alive, but that he meant more to Gabriel than the possibility of revenge, of completing the mission that had been his life ever since that fateful day in Zurich? Even if he tried to beat around the bush he knew that she would work it, for all her mischief and love of tricks, she was sharper than the rest of Talon put together. No, he was on his own for this, and even if he could bring himself to trust her, he didn’t have the right to ask her to endanger herself over this. Back to square one…

  He shifted, about to rise and start pacing, a nervous habit left over from his time in Blackwatch when he paused. It took him a moment to place what had caught his attention, expression darkening as he heard sounds beyond the door, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realised that his earlier meltdown had likely echoed through the entire building.

Talon were coming.

  He was out of time, he could footsteps heading towards them and he growled under his breath, nanites shifting, readying themselves to let him access his guns. Fight or Flight? Those were the only options left to him now, and neither of them were ideal and worse it was Jack that was going to suffer no matter what he did. In the end, it was the thought of Jack getting caught in the crossfire that made up his mind, the image of more of Jack’s blood being spilt enough to calm his bloodlust, and he took a deep breath before reaching for Jack. His movements were hesitant, as slow and cautious as he could make them as he heard voices outside the door, because if Jack woke up now…

   Gabriel hadn’t let himself focus too much on Jack’s injuries before now, noting the damage to the feline features but not allowing himself to focus on the rest, knowing that if he did he wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back. Now though he couldn’t ignore them, mist rising from his skin, nanites frantically working to keep him together as he gingerly lifted Jack, feeling bones shifting beneath his touch and blood…too much blood…and he snarled, low and angry, nearly ready to forget his decision to leave Talon’s punishment until Jack was safe. However, he was derailed a moment later when Jack as always chose the worse time to wake up, stirring, only to tense as he realised that he was being held by someone and Gabriel heard his ragged breathing, speeding up. Cursing he cradled Jack closer, worried that he might struggle in his panic and wanting to make sure that he wouldn’t drop him, of course that made it worse, and he felt claws catching in his coat as Jack tried to wiggle free.

   It was painfully easy to stop him, to hold him in place, something that only fanned the flames of his anger. More often than not he had won their wrestling matches during training, but they had never once been an easy victory, and his heart ached when he realised that he barely had to exert any strength to hold Jack in place. It was clear that Jack had realised this as well, but still he tried to fight, sheer desperation lending him strength as Gabriel felt him trembling, body ready to give out on him at any moment.

“No…” It was barely audible, a weak mewl of protest that tugged at his heart and he wished that he could release Jack and take his time with this, that he could show Jack that he wasn’t a threat. But he could hear the locks opening and he knew that they were out of time, ignoring the soft protests and tremors as he took a stronger grip on Jack.

“Forgive me,” he murmured into the nearest ear, hoping that Jack could hear him through his fear, that he would understand that he was just trying to help. Somehow, he doubted it, but there was no more time and a split second before the door creaked open they were gone, fading into the shadows, Gabriel’s focus narrowing down to Jack. Before this he had only shadow-stepped with someone by accident, when an idiotic agent had grabbed him, and the trip had nearly killed him. He wouldn’t let that happen to Jack, he couldn’t…

**

   He stumbled as he emerged into one of his better boltholes, caught by surprise when Jack, drawing on reserves of strength that he shouldn’t have had left, lunged forwards against his grip, hissing and spitting as he fought to free himself. Gabriel cursed, wincing as claws penetrated his coat and caught skin, cursing as he unintentionally released the tight hold he’d had on the other man. At once Jack was out of his arms and across the room, backing himself into the narrow space between the bed and the wardrobe, tattered ears flat against the top of his head as he yowled threateningly at Gabriel, his tail attempting to lash behind him before pain flickered across Jack’s face and he stilled it.

   Gabriel had been about to step forward, alarmed by the trail of blood that Jack had left in his wake, but in the bright light of the room and unable to distract himself with other thoughts he froze. A low noise, building into an angry snarl rose as he finally took a proper look at Jack’s face. He had seen the injuries earlier, but he hadn’t let them register properly, and he wished that he could block them from his mind now. They were partially healed, poorly treated, as though he had been given the bare minimum of help which was probably true as Talon would not have risked killing Jack too quickly, but it didn’t detract from the fact that the blue eyes were gone, replaced with a milky white that focused on nothing, the skin around them deeply scared and grief lanced through his anger as he stared at Jack.

_He had been less than happy to learn that he was going to be bunking with a newbie, having hoped that he would be with one of the men he’d served with. After all SEP was uncharted territory and it would be easier to deal with if he knew who had his back, but it had been an order, and he knew that it was necessary. No one knew how the treatments were going to affect them and they couldn’t be alone, still he was prepared to be cautious, standoffish with the recruit, some high-achiever who had only served for a couple of years, but still earned enough credentials to get into this program._

_What he hadn’t been prepared for was the calmly, confident man who had let himself into their shared room without hesitation, ears alert and only the slight swaying of his tail revealing a hint of nervousness. He hadn’t been ready for the blue eyes that met his gaze a moment later. Eyes that had held a bewildering mixture of naivety and the hardness that showed he had seen things he’d rather not have seen, and Gabriel had been the one to find himself wordless, pierced by that intense gaze. In the end, it had only been the firm grip of another hand around his, and the soft voice that reached his ears that had dragged him back to the present._

_“Jack Morrison.”_

    It had been those eyes that he had fallen for. Not straight away, although he had been intrigued from the start, but gradually as they fought to endure everything the SEP could throw at them. He had seen those eyes clouded with fever, with pain and rimmed with red after the pain became too much and tears slipped free. He had seen them flashing with anger, with determination, with stubbornness. Watched them, mouth open as they danced with laughter, mirroring the warm smile and even warmer laugh and at some point, he had fallen, and fallen hard. He could remember admitting as much to Jack, could remember the startled look and the laughter that had followed and the blush that came afterwards when he fiercely defended his words, and Jack had realised that he was serious.

They wouldn’t be able to laugh about it again.

   It was harder than he had ever thought possible to move, to take a cautious step forward, his gaze never leaving Jack’s ruined eyes and he couldn’t stop the whisper that slipped free.

“Jack…” _What did they do to you?_ He didn’t want to know, anger curling in his stomach, his form threatening to come apart at the seams again. Talon had done this, taken something so precious just because they could, and it hurt, because he knew that no matter what he did to them it would never be enough.

   He wasn’t given time to dwell on it, because Jack had caught the quiet whisper, growling and snarling as he backed deeper into his hiding place. It must have hurt…it did hurt, Jack had never been good at masking his expressions and Gabriel’s breath caught as pain flickered across the pale features again and he opened his mouth, intending to tell him to stop moving, to let him help but Jack beat him to it.

“Who’s there?” The voice was nothing like he remembered, harsh, rough and he had a feeling that it wasn’t just due to what had been done to him recently. He hadn’t missed the older scars on Jack’s face, deep lines that bisected his lip and the bridge of his nose, a hint of burns scars, his mind flashing back to a day when flames had engulfed them both, hands curling at his sides as he forced himself to remain solid, anger rising again. Twice. Talon had hurt Jack twice, and he hadn’t been able to stop them either time. “Who’s there?!” At any other time, he might have been impressed that someone in Jack’s condition could sound so intimidating, but not now, not when he could see the fear behind the anger, or the way that he wavered, catching himself on the furniture as his body began to give in on him.

“I…” He faltered for a moment, another emotion breaking through the anger and guilt now. Fear. Jack didn’t know it was him, didn’t know that he had survived Zurich, and he hesitated for a moment. Would it be better to lie? To avoid the unresolved issues that still lay between them. However, he glanced at the scarred features again, and shook his head dismissing that thought at once. He had made his decision the moment he had seen Jack, his place was here now, whether he was welcomed or not and he couldn’t expect Jack to trust him if he lied from the start and so he moistened his lips as he finally let his mask fade away. “It’s Gabriel.”

   The silence that followed the quiet declaration was terrifying in its own way, weighing down on him as he watched Jack for a reaction. Waiting for the anger, the hatred that he was half expecting to see, after all neither of them were blameless for what had happened back then. What he wasn’t prepared for was the grief, the longing that appeared for a brief second before Jack snarled at him, words underlain with a furious yowl.

“Liar.” Jack was shaking his head, tail shifting again despite the pain that it must have caused him, low growls rumbling in his chest as he pressed back against the wall, as though he was trying to hide from his own words. “You dare…He…” Jack trailed off, swallowing thickly, visibly fading now as he clutched at his supports, and Gabriel had a feeling that it wasn’t just his physical injuries that were dragging him under now, a thought reinforced by the next words that tiptoed out. “Gabriel Reyes is dead…I killed him”


	3. Chapter 3

_Gabriel Reyes is dead…I killed him._

    There had been days when he had blamed Jack for what had happened with Overwatch, both before and after the organisation had come crumbling down on them. Days when he had cursed the other man’s name as he struggled to adapt to his new existence, as he scoured the world for answers as to what had happened in Zurich. Long nights when his nanites wouldn’t let him sleep spent imagining what he would do if he could have the chance to have Jack in his sights once more, thinking about how he would rub the collapse in his face, along with all the warnings he had issued, the suspicions that had never made it past Jack. There had even been days when he had almost convinced himself that he hated Jack, moments where he had wanted nothing more than to tear the memories of their relationship that haunted him out of his mind and tear them to pieces, to crush the feelings that never truly faded.

    However, as far as he could recall not once had he blamed Jack for what had happened that day in Zurich, or for what had happened to him. They would both have given anything to prevent everything ending like that, they had both been fooled and caught up in the blast. And Jack - he had thought that Jack had perished that day, his heart aching as he remembered the pain that had engulfed him when he had been told that Jack is gone. The only thing he had truly hated was that he had been given this strange half-life while Jack lay dead amongst the base they had once called home. It hadn’t been right, and there had been days when he had cursed his nanites for keeping him alive, and when he had cursed Jack for leaving him behind.

“Jack…” _You didn’t kill me;_ the words die on his lips because Jack has obviously exhausted what little strength he had managed to muster up, the low rumbling growls breaking off into a low mewl as his legs go beneath them. Gabriel didn’t even think about it, shadow-stepping to the other man and catching him before he could hit the ground, but if he thought that exhaustion and weakness was going to make Jack more pliant now he was sorely mistaken, fighting back an angry curse when clawed fingers catch his cheek, feeling blood welling up. “Jack! Jack stop! STOP!”

     Jack freezes at the shout, but Gabriel can draw no relief from that because Jack is hunching in on himself, cowering back, one arm coming up in a clear attempt to defend himself, while he tucks his tail between his leg with a pained mew. “Jack, no…” He breaths, recognising the action for what it is and feeling sick when he realises that Jack was waiting for him to hurt him - that Jack was frightened of him. Not once, even during the worst of their arguments had he seen the slightest flicker of fear in Jack’s expression. He had seen the blond rushing into the middle of battle without the slightest hint of hesitation, and yet here he was cowering against the one person that once upon a time he had known would never hurt him. “Jack…Mi Sol,” he lapses, the old nickname slipping out in the hopes that it will draw Jack back, that it will make him realise that it’s really Gabriel who is holding him. Instead, Jack flinches, a full body shudder before weakly shaking his head.

“Don’t…” Jack pleads, broken and desperate, pawing weakly at Gabriel with the arm that isn’t shielding him, face contorted with anguish. “Y-you’re not him.” There’s so much pain, so much longing in those words and part of Gabriel just wants to seize him and shake him, shouting that he’s right there. That it’s really him, but Jack is already continuing, voice weakening with each word. “I killed him…I killed him…I killed him.” It’s a mantra, and Gabriel can’t help but wonder how many times Jack has said that to himself since Zurich, how long he has clung to that belief and for the first time in years, he finds himself close to tears, squeezing his eyes shut as he pulls Jack closer. He knows it’s selfish, can feel how Jack is tense and trembling against him, but right now all he can do is hold on and bow his head. _I’m so sorry Jack…_ He should have looked harder, kept searching. Why had he believed that Jack was dead? How had he not realised?

   It’s only when the weight in his arms increases that he manages to lift his head, cheeks damp and eyes aching, and for a moment panic engulfs him when he realises Jack is still, features still twisted with pain and anguish even unconscious and it’s only the sound of ragged breathing that stops him from disintegrating completely. _Jack…_ He pulls himself together, Jack’s weight in his arms, the injuries that need tending giving him a purpose and once he’s confident that he’s as solid as he can manage right now he moves, cautiously easing them both up so that he can transfer Jack to the bed.

    Laid out like that Jack looks painfully fragile, and for a moment Gabriel is drawn back to the memory of a much younger Jack laid in the infirmary, body covered in sweat, breath too fast, too weak as the latest batch of injections threaten to add him to the growing list of SEP deaths. That night had seemed never-ending, and it had been the first time that Gabriel had realised just how much the other man had come to mean to him, fighting to stay by his side, spending endless hours clinging to his hand and tenderly detangling fur drenched with sweat. He had thought that Jack would break then, but he had pulled through with a stubbornness that had stunned the doctors, clawing his way back to life and emerging stronger than ever - he wasn’t sure that this Jack could do that. Back then Jack had woken, exhausted and weak as a new-born kitten, whispering that Gabriel had been his reason for coming back, but this Jack doesn’t have that.

“You’re not allowed to die,” he whispers, voice ragged as he reaches out to hesitantly touch a pale cheek, remembering how Jack used to lean into the touch and closing his eyes as even unconscious Jack seems to recoil from the gentle touch. It hurts to pull away. Everything that he had pushed to the back of his mind, the feelings that he had tried to bury with his desire for revenge are bubbling up, and he wants nothing more than to hold onto Jack, to reclaim whatever remained of what they had been, but that’s not what Jack needs right now and slowly he retreats.

    He doesn’t know where to begin, highly aware that Jack’s injuries are beyond his ability to treat at the best of times, let alone while holed up in this tiny apartment, but right now there is no other choice. He doesn’t dare reach out to Sombra at the moment. Talon is no doubt searching for any sign of him, and there’s no way he’s willing to risk revealing where Jack is… and Overwatch. He pauses, the thought had been there, lingering at the back of his mind from the moment he had realised that he was going to rescue Jack. Despite everything that had happened he knew that Winston and the others would welcome them back, if not with completely open arms - then with a hope that they could go back to how things had been. Angela was there, he had seen the distinctive glow of staff the last time he had encountered them, and she would be able to help Jack, and a growl bubbled up at the back of his throat at the thought of someone else helping his Jack, of trusting her with Jack.

    It’s a thought to be dealt with later. Even if he wanted to reach out to them, he can’t leave Jack at the moment, and there’s no way he’s moving without at least patching the other man up. Which means he’s going to have to do what he can and pray that it’s enough.

    Discarding his coat and armour on the floor, he heads for the bathroom and the medical kit he kept stashed in the cupboard there, a backup for the times when his nanites struggled to hold him together and patch him up. He had learnt that lesson the hard way after a particularly bad mission. If Sombra hadn’t taken it upon herself to follow him that day, he would probably have died, or whatever it was that his body would do when the nanites eventually failed him. Shaking his head, he returned to the bedroom, relieved to see that Jack hadn’t moved because he didn’t fancy fighting him just to try and deal with his injuries. Setting the kit down beside Jack and wrinkling his nose as he finally acknowledges the stench lingering around Jack and he hesitates for a moment before heading for the kitchen, hoping that there is a bowl or something that he can fill with water as there is no way he is getting Jack in the shower right now.

    He manages to find a grimy washing up bowl shoved beneath the sink along with an old faded packet of cloths, grimacing as he cleans it up before filling it with warm water, testing it half a dozen times because his nanites have screwed up his ability to detect temperatures and he doesn’t want to hurt Jack. Once he’s satisfied, he grabs a clean cloth and drops it into the water, carrying it back to the bedroom, and setting it on the table before perching on the edge of the bed and studying Jack, working out where to even begin. Eventually, he reaches for the tatty remnants of what he guesses had been under-armour at some point, shadowy claws forming at his fingertips when the material proves resistant in places. Swallowing back bile when it catches on Jack’s injuries, instantly freezing and waiting to see if Jack will stir, but whatever strength he’d found earlier seems gone, and while he shifts slightly he doesn’t wake.  Still, Gabriel is cautious as he continues, not bothering to try and preserve the clothes as they’re fit for nothing but the bin at this stage and once he can pull them away, he hastily tosses them into the furthest corner with a scowl.

   He almost wishes that he hadn’t removed them, because now there is no way for him to hide from the extent of Jack’s injuries, even though he knows there must be more hidden beneath the dirt encrusted to most of his skin. He hisses, mist rising from him in clouds now and he clenches his hands, claws digging into his palms as he fights to ground himself - Jack had never been the best at remembering to eat and drink properly when he was busy, but this…His eyes can easily trace the lines of Jack’s bones, Jack’s skin stretched thin against them, and he has to close his eyes for a moment. He remembers long evenings spent exploring that body, feeling muscles and warm, undamaged skin beneath his searching fingers. Remembers Jack leaning into the touch, breathy chuckles whenever he caught a ticklish spot, warm breath tickling his neck when he teased him.

“What have they done to you?” He murmurs, opening his eyes to study Jack once more, forcing himself to take in every detail, every sign of what Jack had been enduring right under his very nose. He can’t hide from this, he won’t. Determined to make sure that those who had done this had every wound returned tenfold. It doesn’t make it any easier. His fingers trembling as he banishes the claws so that he can ghost over the visible wounds, tracing the path of older wounds and scars, lingering on the scars that he knows without asking had come from that fateful day in Zurich. _Jack…_

   Eventually, he forces himself to move, pushing his sleeves up and reaching for the cloth and bowl of water realising that he needs to get rid of the worst of the filth before he can do more, although part of him is afraid to find what is hidden beneath the dirt. He keeps his touch as gentle as possible, biting his lip as he sets to work.

_“Hmm, that feels good,” Jack moaned softly as he leant back against Gabriel, earning a soft chuckle from the other man as he continued to run the sponge down Jack’s side as best he could with the increased closeness. Although his humour faded as he caught Jack’s sharp intake of breath as he caught the edge of the bruises spanning the length of Jack’s back._ _Murmuring an apology, he pressed a kiss to suddenly tense shoulders, reaching up to knead softly with one hand, waiting for Jack to relax again before continuing._

_“You need to be more careful,” he scolds, voice soft as he cautiously works his way across the damaged skin, pressing kisses to the nape of Jack’s neck between each pass of the sponge. There is no irritation in his voice now, his anger all spent the day before when he had rushed into the infirmary after hearing that Jack was hurt, the terror at the sight of his battered partner loosening his tongue in a way that made him flush as he remembered the scene he had caused. Jack still flinches slightly at his words, tilting his head so that he can peer back at him, the bath water sloshing around them with the tiny movement, the bath much too small for two of them and Gabriel pauses as he finds himself pinned by the too blue gaze._

_“I’ll try, but…”_

_“You can’t promise?” Gabriel finishes for him, and it’s not really a question. They’re both in this for the long haul, and that means taking risks and hoping that they make it home each time. It doesn’t make it any easier, and part of him wishes that he could force Jack to make that promise. Instead, he shifts closer, cautiously pulling Jack against him, trapping him in his arms so that for a moment at least he can pretend that he can keep Jack safe. That moments like this were more common and not because Jack was injured, that things were normal._

    Gabriel blinked, that was a memory that he hadn’t thought of for a long time. He could remember how Jack had done his best to be more careful with the next few missions, how they had both been more cautious, but it was war, and before long one of them had ended up in the infirmary again and then the other. Maybe he should have made Jack promise back then. Maybe they should both have promised, or thought about life beyond being soldiers - beyond Overwatch. How much could they have avoided if they’d taken that path? He growls, irritated at himself and with Jack, because it was only when he was with the other man that he started to think about what ifs, about other futures. It had always been that way. How many times had he stood in that office or in their quarters and imagined saying something like that, knowing that back then at least that Jack might have listened.

    He’s almost grateful for the soft whimper as he runs the cloth across a particularly thick patch of dirt.  Almost - because those unseeing eyes creep open and he can’t help but shiver as they drift over him, longing to reach out and grasp Jack’s face, to make him see him even though he knows that’s not possible. Then Jack is shifting, trying to escape his touch, the whimpers becoming frightened yowls as his body refuses to listen to his commands. “Easy Jack,” he soothes, abandoning the cloth for now so that he can stop Jack from wiggling too far and falling off the bed. But his touch only makes it worse and Jack yowls and hisses, the sounds making it harder and harder for him to hold himself together because he never wanted Jack to sound like that and certainly not because of him. “Jack, please let me help you.” He’s begging now, torn between holding on and stopping Jack from hurting himself more and releasing him before he scares him even more.

    Jack slowly stills in his grip, although he has a feeling that it's more due to him exhausting himself than him having earned his trust, right now he will take what he can get. He keeps his grip as loose as possible, waiting to see what Jack will do, listening to the shaky pants and low unhappy rumbles with a pained expression. The defeated expression that washes over Jack’s face a few minutes later is worse than the fear he realises because the Jack he knew would never admit defeat. And it hits him anew just how much might have changed, how much Talon might have broken, and it hurts, but not as bad as the quiet words that follow as the sightless eyes seek him out, tattered ears flattening against silver hair.

“Do your worst…” Gabriel remembers whispering those very words one day during SEP as they waited for the latest battery of injections. He had been teetering on the edge, weak and feeling like the slightest thing would send him over. Hell, he would have even welcomed it, and it had been Jack who had scolded him then, telling him not to give up. Telling that he was stronger than that and he opens his mouth, intending to echo those half-forgotten words, but Jack hasn’t finished, and his next words render Gabriel mute.  “I don’t care anymore.” There’s a finality to those words that terrifies him, but not as much as the way that Jack goes limp under him, clearly still awake, but not there - not fighting anymore.

_Broken..._

    It feels like he can’t breathe and he can feel himself shifting, his nanites struggling to hold him together as something shifts and shatters in his chest as he stares at Jack. _Jack…_ Slowly he removes his hands and shifts backwards, searching for some sign that Jack has realised, but there’s nothing, and he releases a shuddering breath as he rises to his feet, needing to put some distance between them even if it’s just for a moment. The same rage that had engulfed him back in Jack’s prison is rising once more, although now its targeted at himself, his gaze still fixated on Jack even as he feels his body dissolving and constantly reforming beneath him. He had done this…

   Deep down he knows that’s not true, at least not entirely, but right now it’s hard to silence that thought when Jack is lying there, right within his reach and yet looking as though he’s a million miles away. And not when he’s caught in the realisation that Jack has given up. That he was right there, and he hadn’t been able to stop Jack from falling over that edge, and that he has no idea how to bring him back from that. If it’s even possible.

_“When did you become so pessimistic?” Gabriel blinked at the words, brought up short in the middle of his tirade and unable to do anything but stare at Jack for a moment, caught by surprise both by the words and the wry grin he can see tugging at his partner’s mouth._

_“When did you become so optimistic?” It’s a weak retort, and he winces even as the words leave his mouth, ducking his head as he feels himself colouring. He must be slipping if that’s the best he can come up with and it’s only the sound of Jack’s warm laughter. A sound that he had been beginning to forget over the last few months that had him lifting his head just in time to find his vision filled with Jack as the blond leant in to steal a quick kiss._

_“About the time someone disobeyed orders and put their agents on the ground even though they were suspended,” Jack murmurs, kissing him again, softer this time, lingering. “And a rookie reminded me of why I’m fighting.”_

     Why he was fighting. Gabriel blinked, feeling his nanites shifting back together, taking advantage of the break in his rage to drag his form back together. _Why was he fighting?_ For so long the only thing he had fought for had been himself, for revenge and for the answers he seemed no closer to finding, but that wasn’t the only reason. There had always been another reason, one that he kept buried deep, trying to hide it from everyone even himself, and slowly his gaze shifted back to the still form on the bed, expression softening as he watched the unsteady rise and fall of Jack’s chest and listened to his ragged breathing, things he had thought he would never experience again. Jack. It had always been Jack - first out of vengeance, then later as the grief had dulled slightly as a way of keeping him alive and now - now Jack was here. Alive…

“Jack…” A shiver worked its way through his body, the nanites whirring softly as they finished their task of putting him back together and he breathed slowly for a moment. Jack was here. As long as that much was true, he had more to fight for than he’d had for years. And that realisation was enough to get him moving forward again, settling on the edge of the bed and reaching out to brush his fingers against Jack’s arms, refusing to flinch at the lack of the response from the other man. “Jack…” He faltered for a moment, not even sure if Jack could hear his words right now but he had to try because right now that was all he could do. “I’m not asking you to believe me right now, I’m not asking you to trust me. I wish that I could, but right now I know you can’t do that. So, all I want is for you to stay with me, to keep fighting.”

_Please don’t give up on me…_

**

    His words hadn’t garnered a response, but he had sternly quashed his disappointment, the pain that came from staring at the empty expression and he’d set to work. Many of the injuries were too old for him to do anything about, the scars raw and vivid against pale skin, each mark carefully committed to memory. But there were others that told him that Jack had been hurt just before he found him, fresh injuries that had him cursing under his breath, hissing in sympathy as he did what he could for them, hating the fact that he had to be hurting Jack and yet seeing no sign of it in Jack’s expression.  What worried him the most was what must lay hidden beneath the surface, and he found his thoughts drifting to Overwatch again, to Angela. They needed help - Jack needed help, and yet he knew that Jack would hate for their old friends to see him like this. It was a decision he would need to make soon, but for now, he pushed it away as he finally turned his attention to what in his mind were the worst injuries.

   The damage that had stolen Jack’s eyes was still healing, and he was cautious as he cleaned the dirt away from it, growling as he realised that much of it was dried blood. They had healed him enough to keep him alive but left him marked with the evidence of the pain they had caused him. And he felt his stomach churning as he realised how deep the original wounds must have been, eyes burning in sympathy as he imagined how much it must have hurt and he had to pause, fingers running across matted silver hair even though he knew that the gesture was probably more comforting to him than it was to Jack. _I’m so sorry Jack._ He wondered how many times he would apologise before this was over, as though the words could make a difference and his hands were trembling as he carefully bandaged Jack’s eyes, trying not to breathe a sigh of relief as the eerie, empty gaze was hidden from sight.

    Worse still in a way was the damage that had been done to his ears and tail. The damage to his ears was mainly old, irreversible, although he carefully cleaned the large nick in the right ear. The fur beneath his fingers was coarse and matted with dirt, and he vowed to clean it properly as soon as he could, remembering how much time Jack had spent keeping his fur pristine, and how they had all teased him for it, even as they had admired the soft golden fur and envied Gabe when he was the only one beyond Fareeha who had always been allowed to reach out and play with it. A fleeting echo of a smile crossing his lips as he remembered how demanding Jack had been at times, nuzzling against him, butting him with his head until he would give in and pet his ears, never allowed to stop until Jack was a purring, boneless heap in his laps. He didn’t dare do that now and slowly he moved downwards, forcing himself to focus on Jack’s tail.

     The tail was a different story, and he cursed long and loudly when he took in the missing tip, the raw flesh showing that it was a relatively recent loss and there were furless patches along the entire length of it and he had to pause for a moment before touching it. It’s not hard to find the hot, swollen parts where the bones are broken, and he can feel them shift beneath his searching touch, eyes immediately darting to Jack’s face, but the blankness remained unbroken with only slight stuttering of his breath indicating that he is aware of the pain. “Easy,” he murmured, voice terser than intended as he studied the tail, terrified that it was beyond saving, or that he was going to make it worse. There was no way he was going to be the one to make that decision, and so with a sick feeling building in his stomach he set to work, letting a tendril of his nanites wrap around the damaged appendage, using them as a splint and praying that it will be enough, because the thought of Jack without his tail…

    By the time he’s done he’s drooping, exhausted in a way that he hasn’t felt for years and the temptation to just climb on the bed and curl next to Jack is nearly overwhelming. He even considers it for a moment before wearily rising and gathering what little remains of his medical supplies, realising that whether he wants to or not he’s going to have to venture out at some point, but not yet. He glances at Jack for a minute, shuddering at the thought of what would happen if Talon got their hands on him again.

    It’s an image that plagues him as he finishes tidying up before venturing through to the kitchen again to see just what he has stashed in the cupboard. Glad that he had never bothered with perishable food although more than one of the cans is out of date when he checks them and he chucks them in the bin with more force than necessary. And that’s the breaking point, and he finds himself sinking down onto the kitchen floor as the enormity of everything presses in on him once more, hands clenched against the ground as a sob bubbled up at the back of his throat.

It was too much…

    Jack being alive. Jack being so broken that he feared that he might as well be dead. The terror that he might not be able to bring him back, that he wasn’t enough to help him, and that he might lose him again. Another sob follows the first and then another and another, mist rising from him in waves and this time he doesn’t fight it as his body comes apart at the seams, desperate just to stop feeling anything for a little while.

            


	4. Chapter 4

     He wasn’t sure how long he had spent in that disembodied state, but even when he had been reduced to little more than nanites he hadn’t been able to escape the knowledge that something was wrong. That Jack was in danger. The details had blurred, but the feeling had persisted, and in the end, he had begun the slow process of pulling himself back together. It had got easier over the years, the disconcerting feeling of his body slowly reforming piece by piece, his senses trickling back one by one - firstly touch, little patches of sensation, heat as skin formed and then the familiar material of his clothes wrapping around him. Next came sound, amplified as his ears reformed and for a moment he was overwhelmed by the tiniest noises, from water dripping from the faucet, the heating rattling as it came online indicating he had been there longer than he had thought and over it all the sound of Jack’s ragged breathing.

    He focused on that last sound, using to ground himself as his hearing slowly settled back into normal levels, or what passed for normal for him, squeezing his eyes shut as sight returned next, the light overwhelming him for a moment. Breathing deeply, he felt the last few nanites creeping into place, merging with the rest of his body and everything settling back to normal levels as he slowly opened his eyes, noticing that even now they felt gritty and raw. How long had it been since he had cried like that? Or cried at all? He could vaguely remember doing it when he had first learnt that Jack was believed dead, the raw grief overwhelming his anger with the other man and his fury over what had been done to him, but that had been a long time ago. He had closed himself off after that, he had a mission to focus on, a job to do, and without Jack, everything else had seemed pointless.

But now…

    He glanced towards the bedroom, still unable to believe that all he had to do was take a few steps and he would be able to see Jack. Before he realised what, he was doing he found himself in the doorway, his nanites finishing the job of rebuilding him and settling down to a background hum that never disappeared as he stared at the other man. Jack’s breathing seemed to have evened out, and while it was hard to tell after how still he had been earlier, Gabriel thought that he had finally dropped off. He hoped he had if only to give Jack a break from the pain that he had to be in, knowing that he was going to have to find something strong enough to deal with the pain if he was going to continue handling this himself. For now, though they would have to make do until he knew what was happening, and until he was certain that Jack wasn’t going to die on him.

   He remained like that for a few more minutes, just watching the ragged rise and fall of Jack’s chest and taking comfort from the sight. He could remember happier days when he would wake up first and roll onto his side just so that he could watch Jack sleep. Jack had always looked younger when he was asleep, the stress draining away for a while and Gabriel could’ve watched him for hours. Admiring the way the early light seeping through the window would light up golden fur, watching as Jack’s ears would twitch back and forth as he dreamed, his tail often snaking up to twine around Gabriel’s wrist as though to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. The view was different now, they were both different and yet he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting to the tattered ears, watching them twitch now, unaffected by Jack’s conscious decision to give up. _He’s here…_

     He could quite happily have stood there for hours just watching Jack, but there was still stuff to be done, and he had no idea how long he had lost in his disembodied state, and reluctantly he tore his gaze away from Jack and turned back to examine the kitchen. Food was top of the list, his stomach rolling at the mere thought of it, but while he didn’t strictly need to eat he knew that he should. Because there was no way he was going to risk losing control and reaping Jack while he was like this, even if he managed to take only a little it would be too much in the other’s vulnerable state. It didn’t help that it had been a while since he had reaped anything, and so ignoring his stomach’s complaints, he moved across to the cupboards and began to rummage through them.

     There had been a time when he had enjoyed cooking, not just because he was a good cook after his mother had spent hours making sure he could fend for himself, but because Jack had always lit up whenever he had cooked for them. He paused for a moment, gaze distant as he stared at the tin in his hand… it was so easy to remember those moments now, the little moments when they had just been Jack and Gabe, the jobs left at the doorstep. Memories that he had cut himself off from, because it had hurt too much, now taking on fresh life and warmth just because he knew that Jack was alive. That he was here - _for now,_ a traitorous part of his mind whispered, and he growled under his breath, which turned into a curse as he realised that his claws had pierced the tin and water was now trickling from the holes.

    Muttering under his breath he set the tin on the counter, potatoes he realised as he scanned the wrapper before searching for something to add to it, eventually settling on a tin of tuna. Not particularly appetising, but there was no way he was wasting time cooking for himself, eyeing up several tins that he could use to make soup later, hoping that Jack would be able to eat and keep it down if it was simple. He wasn’t going to disturb him now though, so he turned his attention to his own meal, using his claws to open the cans and dumping the contents on a relatively clean plate, his nose wrinkling at the sight of it before he forced himself to find a fork and start eating. It was bland, and it had been a while since he had made himself eat real food and he could feel it sitting heavy and unpleasant in the pit of his stomach. Still, he forced himself to eat it all, trying not to remember the number of times he had sat on Jack’s desk and stared at him until the other man had eaten whatever he had brought him.

**

     After eating he had taken an inventory of what they actually had in the small flat, trying to quell the small kernel of worry at just how little it was, but then again, this place had been meant for one person to hide. Not two people, with one hovering a little too close to the edge for comfort. Still, it had left him on edge, unable to settle even as exhaustion continued to tug at him, and he found himself pacing between the rooms, never straying from the bedroom where Jack slept for more than a few minutes at a time.

    He had just stepped back into the bathroom when he caught a soft sound from the bed, and at once he was at Jack’s side, the wisps of smoke rising from his skin telling him that he had shadow stepped without thinking, something that he hadn’t done since the early days of learning his abilities and he sighed. Jack was messing him up again, and somehow, he couldn’t convince himself it was a bad thing as he settled on the edge of the bed, maintaining a careful distance between them even though he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold the other man. He was glad of his restraint when he realised that Jack wasn’t actually awake, the lack of tension at his presence proof of that. As was the broken whimper that slipped free as he tossed his head to the side, his tattered ears going flat against his head and there was a sinking feeling in his stomach as a second whimper escaped and then a third.

Nightmares…

    It was something they were both intimately acquainted with after the horrors of SEP and the Omnic Crisis, and he could remember how rare nights without either of them being roused by nightmares had been treated like a national holiday, Jack smiling and bright-eyed no matter what passed his desk that day and Gabriel being positively soft on his men. Those days had become fewer and fewer as they grew further and further apart, and Gabriel couldn’t remember the last time he had slept the night through without something from the past haunting him, or memories that didn’t even belong to him interrupting his sleep. It didn’t make it any easier to see Jack’s face contorting with distress as he shifted restlessly on the bed, and without thinking, Gabriel reached out, just as he had back then and gently cupped a pale cheek, willing his claws away as he brushed against the weathered skin.

“Shh Jack, it’s okay,” he murmured, snorting at his own words because there was nothing about this situation that was okay, and it would be a long time, if ever that it was. But Jack had stilled at his voice, ears flicking towards him and so he leant forward, wishing that his voice hadn’t changed, that he could still use the same soothing tone he had used to lull Jack to sleep in the past when the ghosts were keeping him up at night. “You’re safe here, it’s just a nightmare.” _Just a nightmare,_ he wished that it was, that they were just haunted by fictional fears, rather than blood and death and pain. Jack shuddered, whimpering again and he cursed, realising that words alone were not going to be enough tonight and reluctantly he moved his hand, grasping a bony shoulder, trying not to focus on just how thin Jack was as he shook him lightly. “Come on Jack, time to wake up.”

    Jack didn’t wake up peacefully. Instead, he jerked under Gabriel’s touch with a frightened noise that tore at Gabriel’s heartstrings and didn’t help his overwhelming desire to go back and destroy the people that had dared to reduce Jack to this. He pushed that thought aside for now, _later,_ he promised himself, feeling his nanites shifting hungrily and knowing that eventually, he wouldn’t be able to fight the urge, and unable to bring himself to regret that fact. For now, though he focused on Jack who was trying to curl up and make himself a small as possible. His expression showing just how much that had to be hurting him and Gabriel frantically tried to stop him and ease him out again, but with each fresh touch, Jack became tenser and tenser until he abruptly went limp and for a half a second Gabriel thought he had passed out again.

    He almost wished he had when he realised that Jack was still conscious, his breathing too rapid and his tail lashing from side to side, as though he was fighting the urge to lash out.  Biting back a curse as he realised that Jack had adopted his earlier passive resistance and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to shake him and needle him, anything to get a reaction out of him, but then he remembered Jack’s broken plea for him to do his worst and the urge faded at once. “Jack…” What could he say? Even if Jack had been willing to accept that he was who he said he was, he didn’t have the words to make this better. Hell, that had always been part of the problem that he had never known what to say, what words to use to get through to the other man and he had lashed out instead. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He murmured, not expecting an answer and trying to pretend that it didn’t hurt when Jack didn’t so much as to stir to show the words had reached him. Instead releasing his grip on him and rising to his feet, telling himself that he wasn’t fleeing as he moved through to the kitchen to get some water for Jack.

    If it took longer than it should have to fill a single glass and return to the bedroom, then there was no one to judge him because Jack hadn’t moved from his previous position and he didn’t even tense when Gabriel reclaimed his spot beside him on the bed. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy for him, and as much as he wanted to point out that he was only trying to help, he couldn’t blame Jack for not trusting that. Not after what he had been through and he counted to ten, making sure that he didn’t lash out verbally before reaching out and gently nudging Jack. “I’ve got water for you.” No response. “Please Jack, you need to drink something.” Again, there was no response, and with a sigh he set the glass on the bedside table for a moment, scooting forward so that he could get his arms under Jack and carefully ease him into a semi-upright position.

 “Come on Jack,” he pleaded as he retrieved the glass, a smoky tendril rising to support it so that he could focus on gently tilting Jack’s head towards the glass, guiding him towards it. While there was no outward response from Jack and no resistance, he could feel how badly the other man’s heart was pounding, a low growl building in the back of his throat. Was it just him that Jack was frightened of? Or had they done something so that he was terrified of even being offered food and water, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that the answer was probably both and he could feel his nanites stirring again, chanting for blood and it made it hard to keep his voice soft. “You need to at least drink something. Please…” He thought that his plea was going to fall on deaf ears, but when he pressed the glass to Jack’s lips, the other man took a cautious sip, making a low noise of surprise before taking another and another.

     Gabriel was jubilant, although he tried to contain it, worried that Jack would stop drinking if he picked up on it but he couldn’t stop himself from encouraging the other man. “That’s it,” Jack was trembling now, getting ready to pull back, but he took another sip and then another. “Just a little bit more,” Jack’s ears twitched, and then he pulled his head back, choking slightly on the last sip, and he immediately lowered the glass, using the tendril of smoke to deposit it on the table so that he could focus on supporting Jack and settling him back on the pillow. “Okay, okay. Good job.” Jack stiffened at the words, actually reacting and his ears went flat against his head, and for half a second Gabriel thought that he was going to get hissed at. What had he said…?

_Gabriel was exhausted and covered from head to foot in dirt, and all he wanted to do was head in, shower and then crash in bed before they were forced down for dinner and another round of treatments. However, as the leader of their team for the day he had to check on the others although he already knew they had completed the exercise without a single casualty, in part thanks to a good strategy and partly because of…  he lifted his head, searching for the familiar blond hair and nearly missing it because Jack Morrison was as covered in mud as he was and currently slumped against the wall, although his gun remained ready in his lap. He nodded approvingly, unsurprised as he moved across to the other man who tensed before realising who it was and hesitating for a moment before slumping back in exhaustion._

_“Good job Morrison,” Gabriel murmured, deciding that he could scold the blond for his recklessness later, after all, if he hadn’t thrown himself in like that they might not have won. Still, it was an attitude to be curtailed before they were out in the field. Morrison looked startled for a moment, having clearly expected to be reamed out and there was another beat before he blinked and offered a tentative, weary grin._

_“You too, Sir.”_

_“Reyes…” He corrected. If he’d had his way they would be on first name basis already, especially as they shared a room, but he had learned that Jack was intensely aware of rank and rules, and incredibly private around those he didn’t know. It had taken him days to get the man to even engage in idle chat with him, and even now it could be like pulling teeth at times, and he was startled when the other man looked surprised, his grin brightening slightly._

_“Good job, Reyes.”_

    That day had marked the thawing of the ice, and it had barely been a month later that he had finally got Jack to call him by his first name and he sighed, part of him wanting to try once more to convince Jack that it was really him. But he knew that it was too soon, and so he settled for making sure Jack was as comfortable as he could be on the pillows, letting his fingers linger for a moment on Jack’s cheek before pulling back. “Get some sleep Jack,” he murmured before shifting back, giving Jack the distance he clearly needed, watching as the ears came up from their position against his head, twitching warily and Gabriel found himself holding his breath as Jack opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, before snapping it shut without a word. “It’s okay, I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk to me.” _If you’re ever ready to talk._

     He wasn’t sure if his words had even registered, but it was only a few minutes before Jack’s breathing had evened out again, and his ears had stilled apart from the odd twitch, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He had actually dared hope that the fact that Jack had reacted enough to take a drink was a step forward, and he wanted to curse himself for being so naïve as he watched Jack sleep for a moment before climbing to his feet and resuming his earlier pacing. Only now his mind was flooded with memories of their SEP days, of the hours spent trying to get under Jack’s skin and getting to know his roommate - of how he had felt on top of the world when it had finally worked, and how now he would give anything just to have Jack acknowledge that he was alive.

**

     He had tried to sleep for a while, but he had only managed a few minutes before he had snapped awake in a panic to check on Jack, relieved to find the other man sleeping relatively peaceful on the bed. After repeating that process several times he had abandoned his efforts, checking his guns and practicing manifesting them and banishing them, an ability that had failed him before when his emotions got the better of him, and after a couple of failed attempts he left the guns out, needing something to defend them with if Talon found them.

    After that he prowled through the flat again, searching every inch of the rooms, just for something to do although he kept checking on Jack. It was during one of those searches that he found an old, disposable communicator that he had forgotten about and after a moment’s hesitation he turned it on, figuring that he could use it to search for nearby hospitals of pharmacies that he could raid once it was safe to leave Jack, and a supermarket he added, glancing at the pitiful assortment of tins that he had piled on the side. Turning it on, he settled on the floor in the doorway between the kitchen and the bedroom, not the most comfortable position, but at least it let him keep an eye on everything at once as he waited for it to load. It had just lit up, glowing blue as it connected to the Wi-Fi when it began to ring and he nearly dropped it, the noise startling in the silence, and for a moment he just stared at it knowing that no one should have had the number for it.

    He might have ignored it, but the ringing continued, and he could see Jack turn restlessly on the bed, no doubt reacting to the noise and with a muffled curse he pressed to answer.

**_“Gabe, finally,”_** Sombra was the only person he knew who could irritate him with just a couple of words and he immediately bristled, even as he shifted closer to the bed, eyes darting to the shuttered window and then the door. Had she found them? He was confident that he could take her out if she were on her own, but if she had brought back up - his gaze shifted back to Jack, watching the rise and fall of his chest, knowing that he was still awake but choosing not to respond. The same dilemma that had gripped him in Jack’s prison, taking hold again, because he couldn’t fight properly while protecting Jack, and Jack couldn’t escape without him. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to try and act as though everything was under control, even as he felt his nanites shifting restlessly, telling him that things were far from being in control.

“Sombra…”

**_“You’ve certainly caused a stir,”_** Sombra sounded as relaxed as ever, a teasing edge to her voice. _**“I’ve heard all sorts of interesting rumours.”**_

“What do you want Sombra?” He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her games, even though he knew that reacting was exactly what she wanted.

**_“Relax,”_** Sombra drawled, and if she had been there, he would have growled at her, as it was he fought back the urge, not wanting to antagonise her until he found out which side she was playing this time. As though sensing his thoughts she chuckled, and he could easily imagine her spinning around in her chair, eyes alight with mischief…it didn’t bode well for his peace of mind or Jack’s safety. _**“If I was going to point them in your direction then they would already be at your door.”**_ He paused at that, knowing that if she had hacked his communicator this quickly he had to have worked out where he was a while ago, and yet Talon wasn’t at his door. Then again, the flat was about as far out of the way as you could get, which was why he had chosen it in the first place. _**“Nowhere is that well-hidden Gabe.”**_ It was a threat and a warning all in one, and it did little to settle his nervousness, and he had to get to his feet, beginning to pace as he struggled to keep his voice even so that she wouldn’t know how much her words were getting to him.

“So, what do you want?”

**“ _Your help in the future, when and where I need it. One time only,”_** Sombra replied promptly - too promptly, and he frowned as he realised that she had known exactly how this was going to play out and that he had walked right into it. He was reluctant to commit, knowing that she had her own agenda and not knowing how it was going to affect his, but his gaze strayed to Jack, watching as the other man curled in on himself, fearful even in sleep and he sighed, already knowing that he was going to agree. **_“For now, though I have something that might help.”_**

“What?” Gabriel demanded, knowing that just by asking that he had agreed to her terms, her light laugh confirming his fears but he pushed that aside. Right now, he needed all the help he could get, although he was too proud to admit that aloud.

**“ _I have a number for that old doctor friend of yours,”_** Sombra drawled. _**“You know…Angela.”**_ Gabriel tensed at the name, even if he had been thinking about contacting her earlier he was still far from ready to do it…and he knew that Sombra was aware of his history, more than she should have been and he wanted to snarl at her for dropping that name so easily.

“Sombra…”

**“Your many things Gabriel, but you’re not a healer,”** Sombra cut him off, turning serious for once. **“I saw some of the footage of what they did to him, and I know he needs a healer.”** Gabriel snarled at the news that there was footage of what had been done to Jack, unable to hide his reaction this time and then he froze as an unpleasant thought occurred to him and his free hand curled into a fist, claws forming and digging into his palm as he demanded.

“Did you know?”

**_“No,”_** Sombra spat the word out, sounding absolutely disgusted with the mere idea. _**“If I had I would have said something, you should know that.”**_ He should have known, he could admit that much to himself, knowing that she had always avoided getting dragged into the less pleasant aspects of Talon’s work. She much preferred working as a hacker, and when she did need to kill it was always quick and as painless as she could make it.

“Sorry…”

     There was silence for a moment, and he thought that he might have lost her before she sighed. **_“You’re forgiven this time, so do you want the number?”_**

 “Yes.”  Gabriel hesitated before agreeing, gaze on Jack once more as he weighed her words, knowing that she was right, and Jack needed more help than he could give her.  He switched the communicator to the loudspeaker for a second, typing in the number as she reeled it off, fighting the urge to delete it before finally saving it and putting the communicator back to his ear before her voice could rouse Jack. “Thank you.”

**_“Don’t thank me yet,”_** she warned him, but her voice was warm despite her words. **_“I’m not going to cover for you. If they track you down…”_**

“Understood.” He wouldn’t have asked her too, and it was enough to know that she wasn’t going to lead Talon to his door and he hesitated for a moment because there was one other thing he could ask for and he worried at his bottom lip before continuing. “That footage…”

**_“I’ll send you what I have, and I’ll see if I can get the rest,”_** Sombra promised after a moment, but before he could respond, she had hung up with a quick. _**“Good luck.”**_

   The communicator chimed a moment later with an incoming file, and he hastily accepted it, saving it, knowing that he wasn’t ready to see it just yet. But he would have to watch it at some point, if only in the hopes that it would help him with Jack, although he already knew it was going to push his urge for vengeance into overdrive. That done he switched back to the number she had given and stared at it for a moment before turning the device off, there was no way he was ready to deal with her tonight, not without sleep, and not without talking to Jack. He might not get a response, but he wanted to at least give Jack the chance to decide what he wanted to do, having a feeling that it had been far too long since he had been given that option.

   Wearily he leant his head back and closed his eyes. He was still agitated, his nanites an incessant buzzing at the back of his mind, but now that he had the option to get them help and the fact that he knew Sombra wasn’t going to lead Sombra to their door he could afford to relax for a little while. Still, he opened his eyes once more, checking on Jack again, watching as the tattered ears twitched for a moment before settling, and slowly letting his eyes drift shut. Tomorrow he would talk to Jack about what he wanted to do, and try and get the other man to eat something and he would make a decision about what they were going to do. _Tomorrow…_

 


End file.
